


Theory and Reality

by infiniteeight



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Barebacking, First Time, M/M, Pack Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:58:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7729483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infiniteeight/pseuds/infiniteeight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being given command of the <i>Enterprise</i>, Jim starts to show signs of settling down. But Type A alphas don't settle... </p>
<p>Leonard worries about territory disputes and Christine Chapel is way too patient for these two.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Note: This is a pack dynamics AU, but the only differences between alphas and omega are in scent and behavior, so this isn't really A/B/O. I'm just using the same terms.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Theory and Reality

There are people, Leonard knows, who believe that Jim Kirk is constitutionally incapable of settling down. It’s a pretty common quality for an alpha, leftover from human pack dynamics formed before technology gave everyone a lot more independence. There are generally two kinds of alphas: the aggressive, sexually promiscuous ones who once defended the pack and brought in genetic diversity, and the powerful, grounded ones who create the central alpha-omega pair bond that defines a pack and only really blow their tops when the home front is threatened. Leonard is one the latter, through and through, and Jim has always played enthusiastically into the former stereotype.

But Leonard knows Jim a hell of a lot better than anyone else, and sometimes he wonders just where on that spectrum his friend actually falls. For one thing, Type A alphas are aggressive, but they aren’t usually _ambitious_ ; they defend the pack, but they don’t fight to lead it. Plenty of them end up commanding starships, because hard work and time in service did just fine in getting a lot of people up the ladder, but it’s a rare Type A alpha who’d have enough ambition to complete a four year program in three years, and then buck for Captain in the middle of a crisis because they’re that goddamned sure that they know the best way to protect their people.

On top of that, Type A alphas tend to be a little… blase about protection during sex. Not careless, not in this day and age, but they’re more likely to roll on a condom and call it good enough, or assume that because their partner is protected they don’t need to worry. Jim, on the other hand, has an implant, a plug blocking the vas deferens (totally reversible), _and_ uses condoms. And Leonard knows of at least one occasion on which he’d left a partner high and dry when they’d seemed a little too dismissive of the whole concept of protection.

So while the grapevine dismisses the change in Jim’s social habits after acquiring the _Enterprise_ as regulations and convenience--there aren’t even a dozen people on the ship that the Captain is allowed to date, according to regs, and as an exploratory ship he doesn’t have many off-ship options--Leonard thinks he might know better. It isn’t just that Jim’s encounters are less frequent now. There’s also a different _quality_ to them. More intense. Not as quickly forgotten. More significantly, they seem to leave Jim pensive afterwards, instead of relaxed and buoyant.

The grapevine doesn’t seem to notice the first time Jim arranges a second date with one of these folks. Or maybe people notice, but figure it’s like at the academy, a casual convenience. Except that it _isn’t_ convenient. The second and third meetings require substantial effort to arrange, given the _Enterprise_ ’s duties. There is no fourth date.

Leonard expects Jim to come find him when it falls apart. 

He doesn’t.

Leonard isn’t _hurt_. They’ve never been in the habit of talking about their bed partners with each other, and just because this one seems different doesn’t mean Jim’s got any reason to think Leonard would want Jim to confide in him about it. So he’s not hurt. But he is a little… worried. It makes sense to Leonard that Jim might want to do a post-mortem on his first try at a real relationship with his best friend who has substantially more real relationship experience. That Jim doesn’t come to talk to Leonard about it makes him wonder if Jim is feeling territorial.

Type A alphas and Type B alphas don’t get territorial with each other. The Type B alpha is the pack’s anchor, and the Type A alphas are _supposed_ to be a part of the pack. But things can get very tense when two Type B alphas have to interact, especially when they’re both in positions of authority.

Like, say, the Captain of a starship and his CMO.

Three months and two more similarly abortive relationships pass without comment from Jim before Leonard admits to himself that he can’t keep ignoring the potentially brewing situation. Their personal interactions haven’t changed yet, but the fact that Jim is protecting his romantic relationships from Leonard hints at the very real possibility that the next time they clash in MedBay, it could all boil over.

No, he can’t keep ignoring it. But neither can he stand the idea of talking to Jim about it and precipitating a further withdrawal. So he takes the coward’s way out.

“Any other business, Doctor?” Nurse Chapel asks, tapping a few notes into her PADD.

Leonard has a two hour meeting with Chapel once a week to review developments in MedBay. As CMO, Leonard may be ultimately responsible for the department, but he’s quite aware that it’s his nurses who keep the wheels turning. He may make policy and have the final call on treatment, but the nurses are the ones who make it happen and take care of all the essential daily tasks.

“Doctor?” she repeats, and Leonard realizes he’s been silent too long.

“There’s one more thing,” he says reluctantly, rubbing his eyes.

She frowns. “Serious?”

“Not at the moment, but potentially.” Leonard bites the bullet and forces the words out. “I’m concerned that the Captain and I might have a territory problem the next time we’re at odds in MedBay.”

Both of Chapel’s eyebrows go up. “Why? You never have before.”

Leonard blows out a harsh breath. “You didn’t know Jim before he was permanently assigned to the _Enterprise_ , so you might not have realized, but his dating habits have gotten a lot more serious over the last eight months or so. It looks like he’s thinking of settling down.”

“Yes, but--”

It’s rude to interrupt, but Leonard isn’t sure he’ll get this out if he doesn’t just cough it up now. “Which means he might not be a Type A alpha. He might be Type B, in which case he and I will almost certainly get into it at some point.”

Chapel’s mouth snaps shut and she stares at him for a moment. “Captain Kirk was characterized as a _Type A alpha_?” she said, a little incredulously.

“Yeah,” Leonard says. “But like I said, I think that might be wrong.”

“Have you mentioned this to him?”

Leonard grimaces. “No. I’m not sure how he’d take it, and I… Damn it, I just didn’t want to. I know I should, but... Fuck.” He sighs. If Jim has been mischaracterized, that could very well be the root of the difficulty he’s having in dating at the moment. Leonard can’t keep being so goddamned selfish. “You’re right, I’ve got to say something.”

“I could talk to him,” Chapel offers, unexpectedly.

It’s tempting, but Leonard shakes his head. “I’m his CMO _and_ his best friend. It’s my responsibility.”

“You’re also personally invested,” Chapel says. Her expression settles into determined lines. “I did my specialization in dynamic dysfunction. If he wants to be re-characterized or if he has questions, I’m actually better qualified to answer his questions, anyway.”

“I feel like I’m ducking out on him,” Leonard admits.

Chapel’s determined expression softens. “You haven’t gone anywhere. If he wants to talk to you about this, I know you’ll be right here for him. It’s okay to let someone with a little more emotional distance bring it up the first time.”

Leonard hesitates. “Just... Make sure he knows I’m not dodging him?” Which is a stupid thing to ask for, because he _is_.

But Chapel just smiles and pats his hand. “I hardly think he needs me to tell him that, but okay.”

Leonard’s not sure what to expect after that. Chapel doesn’t tell him when she intends to talk to Jim, of course. After four gut churning days of wondering what the hell is going on, Leonard has to admit that he’s kind of regretting agreeing to let her handle it. At least if Jim had blown up on him, it would all be over with.

On the fifth day, just after the end of his shift, Leonard is staring at a tumbler of bourbon and trying to decide if it will settle his stomach or make the anxiety driven nausea worse when the door chimes. He’s up out of his chair and across the room in an instant, and finding Jim at his door both ratchets up the nausea and sends a rush of relief through him. “Hey,” Leonard greets Jim, and they settle themselves into a pair of comfy chairs that Leonard bought for his quarters specifically with Jim in mind. Hopefully, this isn’t the last time they’ll use them.

“I had an interesting chat with Nurse Chapel,” Jim says, almost before they finish sitting. He’s holding a PADD in his hands, and he doesn’t set it down once they’re seated.

Leonard takes a second to swallow his nerves. “I thought you might have.”

Jim catches his eye. “She said you had a theory about why I’ve been having trouble getting a steady relationship off the ground.” He pauses, but not nearly long enough for Leonard to figure out what to say next. “But I already knew why, Bones.”

“If you knew,” Leonard asks quietly, “why didn’t you do something about it?”

“Because being mischaracterized wasn’t the problem,” Jim says. His hands tighten on the PADD. “Even though it turns out it was true.”

He must have had Chapel test him, Leonard realizes. That’s what’s on the PADD. His new characterization. But why bring it with him? Leonard finds himself staring at the PADD, silent.

“Don’t you want to know what the problem was?” Jim asks.

It takes an effort to look up at him again, but Leonard does it. Jim looks determined. “Yeah,” Leonard says, even though he doesn’t, really.

“I was holding them to an unreasonable standard,” Jim says. “I wasn’t being fair to them, because I knew that none of them were ever going to be able to trust me like you do, or call me on my shit like you do, or take care of me like you do.”

Leonard closes his eyes. “We’ve had this conversation before, Jim.”

They were in their second year when Jim had suggested it. _We’re good together, why not try it and see how it goes?_ Jim hadn’t cared that they were both alphas. But while Leonard might not have been quite as experienced, he’d done enough experimenting to know that he was never really going to be satisfied with an alpha partner. Even when he finds an alpha physically attractive, even when he _likes_ them, his body just won’t tune in without an omega’s scent and taste. Leonard has spent years alternately cursing his mind and body: one for wanting Jim, and the other for not wanting him.

“Yeah,” Jim says. He doesn’t sound discouraged at all. Leonard opens his eyes and finds Jim almost smiling instead. “But as it turns out, we were operating with faulty information at the time.” He holds out the PADD.

Leonard takes it, speaking as he looks down. “I don’t see how this is meant to--” 

Jim is not a Type A alpha.

He’s not a Type B alpha, either.

Jim is a Type B _omega_. A _pair bonding_ omega.

“You’re-- But you can’t--” Leonard tears his eyes away from the PADD and looks up at Jim. Gorgeous, brilliant Jim, who apparently isn’t a alpha at all, if this isn’t a dream. “How could they have got it so wrong?” Leonard asks, hardly daring to believe it could be real.

“Chapel says it’s actually one of the more common mistakes,” Jim says. “Characterizations are done at sixteen, but apparently most Type B alphas and omegas go through a second hormonal shift in their mid twenties. Before that, Type B omegas have a lot in common with Type A alphas, including sexual promiscuity while they identify what they want in a mate and aggression while they prove themselves strong enough to lead a pack.”

It’s been a long time since Leonard did his rotation in the dynamic dysfunction department, but that sounded about right. Jesus. “This is really happening?” Leonard doesn’t intend it to be a question, but his heart is pounding and his nerves are singing. He drinks in the sight of Jim, his blue eyes bright and intent, focused like they always are when he goes after something he wants. And this time, he wants Leonard.

When Jim speaks, it sounds like a promise: “It’s really happening.”

Leonard drops the PADD and reaches for Jim. Maybe he pulls Jim into his lap himself, but he thinks Jim is already moving when Leonard gets his hands on him. Either way, Jim is soon kneeling astride Leonard, leaning down and kissing him even as Leonard wraps his arms around Jim. 

Leonard never imagined this. He couldn’t let himself think about it; knowing that it could never be real, the fantasy would only break his heart. Now that it _is_ happening, he kind of wishes he had imagined it, because his head is spinning, overwhelmed with Jim’s weight and heat and taste and the rich, deepening scent of a omega ready to be claimed. Ready to be spread out and opened, brought to a gasping, begging peak and then _thoroughly_ satisfied.

Tearing his mouth away from Jim’s, Leonard gasps, “Bed, I need you in my bed,” even as he pushes Jim off his lap again.

Jim actually stumbles sliding out of Leonard’s grip, but he gets with the program quickly, kicking off his boots first and shedding the rest of his clothes on his way over to the bed. Leonard takes a moment to draw in a long breath. He meant it to be steadying, but his lungs fill with Jim’s scent and it’s all he can do to get to his feet and strip his own uniform off.

Jim is waiting for him on the bed, gloriously naked, miles of fair skin marked with scars despite the best medical technology the 23rd century can offer. If you’d asked even two hours ago, Leonard would have said that he hated those marks, hated the reminders of the times he’d nearly lost Jim. But seeing Jim now, alive and vibrant, Leonard looks at those scars and sees _his marks_. The work he’s done to save Jim, his blood, sweat, and tears, is graven into Jim’s skin. “You are so damned beautiful,” Leonard says hoarsely.

There is no universe in which Leonard would have expected Jim to blush in bed, but he does now. Or maybe it’s more a flush of pleasure--practically the same thing--but either way, he turns a delicious pink color that is completely irresistible. Leonard crawls up onto the bed and over him, leans down and kisses him long and deep. Jim’s heat radiates off his body, a phantom caress against Leonard’s skin, tempting him towards laying down and pressing them together from nipples to knees. 

Jim’s hands come up to grip his hips, and the touch of them on his bare skin makes Leonard moan into the kiss. Jim breaks it, breathless with arousal as he speaks. “You’re allowed to touch me,” he says, tugging on Leonard’s hips. “I want you to touch me.”

Leonard feels like his entire body is throbbing along with his pulse. “If I touch you now,” he pants, dizzy with Jim’s scent, so much sweeter than he ever expected, “I’m going to bury myself inside you and never come out again.”

Jim moves his hands from Leonard’s hips to his face. “ _Yes_ ,” he hisses, eyes bright and urgent.

Groaning helplessly, Leonard takes another kiss. Jim’s mouth is lush under his, responsive and eager. It’s perfect, draws Leonard in just the way he’s always liked, and then Jim’s sucking on his tongue and yes, _fuck yes_ , Leonard gives it to him, gives him everything before breaking the kiss and nuzzling Jim’s cheek and throat briefly. When he comes up he braces himself on one arm and tugs on Jim’s hip with the other hand.

Jim turns onto his belly with an eager moan and Leonard sucks a kiss into the back of his neck before sitting back on his heels and running his hands down the long lines of Jim’s flanks. He leans down and lays another kiss on Jim’s tailbone before taking a moment to retrieve lube and a condom from his bedside table. When he turns back, Jim has gone up onto knees and elbows. “Christ, you’re perfect,” Leonard says.

The way Jim laughs, a little surprised, very happy, makes Leonard wonder if logistics wasn’t the only sticking point in his recent relationships. “With you I am,” Jim says, looking over his shoulder, eyes sparkling. He catches sight of the condom and pauses, licking his lips. “Can I have you bare?” he asks, voice low.

Leonard blinks. Jim _never_ goes without, regardless of the sex of his partner. “You’re sure?”

Jim nods. “I want you to mark me. I want to smell like you. I want to be full of you.”

Heat surges through Leonard. “Yeah,” he says roughly. “You can have that.” He tosses the condom aside and strokes the dry pad of his thumb over Jim’s opening. 

Jim flexes against his thumb and gasps, “ _Please_ , Bones.”

“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” Leonard murmurs. “I’m going to give you everything you need.” He lays one more kiss on Jim’s tailbone before sliding a slick finger inside him. Jim moans again and rolls his hips into the touch, his body opening up so smoothly it takes Leonard’s breath away. Leonard wraps his free arm around Jim’s hips and finds Jim’s heavy, full cock with his hand, cradling it in his palm, more letting Jim thrust against something than stroking it himself. 

Jim’s movements are liquid smooth as Leonard opens him up, rocking between the fingers pushing deep inside him and the hand curved around his cock. “So good,” he gasps. “It’s _so good_ , Bones. So good.” The words spill out over and over, as if Jim can’t believe it, and all Leonard can do is keep going, struggling not to rush despite the hungry throb of his own cock. 

It doesn’t take long for Jim to be ready, his hole beautifully stretched around three fingers, still eagerly moving to meet the thrust and twist of Leonard’s hand. Jim whimpers when Leonard pulls his fingers out, leaving him empty, but he greets the hot nudge of Leonard’s slick cock with a sharp, excited, “ _Oh!_ ”

“Jim,” Leonard groans as he pushes in, the name torn from deep inside him. Jim’s body welcomes him, clutches at him eagerly. 

Jim’s reply is a wordless noise of pleasure and a sudden, tight squeeze before he gasps out, “ _More_.”

Leonard manages one slow, controlled thrust and then Jim lets out a moan and a cloud of scent and Leonard’s control breaks. His hips snap hard the second time and Jim’s shout of pleasure spurs him on and Leonard’s fingers are digging into Jim’s hips and Jim is pushing back to meet him and all Leonard can think is _more_ and _mine_.

The shine of sweat makes Jim’s skin seem to glow. Leonard’s hands threaten to slip on Jim’s hips because of it, or maybe that’s the sweat running down his own body. He can’t tell, but it doesn’t matter, not as long as they’re here together, Leonard’s cock driving hard into Jim’s body, their voices merging with gasps and moans, musk thick in the air. 

His every sense wrapped up in Jim, pleasure surging through him with every thrust, Leonard almost doesn’t feel his orgasm coming. It’s one more throb of ecstasy in a sea of it until it actually rolls through him, drawing his balls up tight and bursting forth in a rush of pleasure and a spurt of come. It’s almost like Leonard’s climax pours out of him and _into_ Jim, because he’d no sooner shuddering with completion than Jim is crying out and tightening around him, too. 

Leonard is weak-kneed in the aftermath, but he manages to withdraw and lay down next to Jim, who turns onto his side and shifts close enough that their legs tangle and their heads rest on the same pillow. He’s flushed, still, and glowing with satisfaction. Something deep and basic in Leonard revels in seeing his omega so openly contented. He can’t help but smile, and that makes Jim smile, and the next thing Leonard knows they’re laughing until snorts and snickers work their way in. 

When they finally calm down, the words come easy to Leonard, like they never have before: “I love you.”

Leonard didn’t think it was possible for Jim to beam any brighter, but somehow he does. “Me too.” He laughs again. “I mean, I love you, too.”

“I got that part,” Leonard says dryly, but he’s smiling, too.

***

Leonard gets double takes from every crew member he passes on the way to MedBay the next morning. He’s not doing anything so obvious as smiling, but he and Jim had a second round before bed the night before and this morning Leonard could already tell that their scents are changing. Pair bonds grow slowly, becoming stronger every time alpha and omega mate. It’s rare for one to show this quickly, but the years of emotional closeness are probably jump starting things. 

Well, either that or it’s just Jim. It’s just like him to jump into this with two feet, too.

The second glances in the halls are surprised and curious, but Chapel takes one look at him and smirks smugly.

Leonard narrows his eyes at her and abruptly remembers her surprise at Jim’s supposed characterization and Jim’s comment that she’d said his was one of the more common mischaracterizations. “You knew,” he accuses. “You knew before you even tested Jim, didn’t you?”

“I had a pretty good idea,” she admits cheerfully, following Leonard into his office and seating herself in the visitor’s chair when he takes his behind the desk.

“You couldn’t have mentioned that to me?” Leonard scowls, thinking of the days of stress and fear he could have avoided.

“As his physician? Sure.” Chapel says. “But can you honestly tell me you’d have reacted like his physician if I’d told you that the man you’ve devoted yourself to taking care of was a pair bonding omega? I needed to make sure the Captain knew that he had the option to bond with someone before I told a potential bondmate.”

Leonard wants to argue, but she’s right. He sighs instead. “Point taken.” Christine had, actually, been admirably careful with _both_ of them, given the situation. He offers her a small smile. “And thank you.”

Christine returns the smile warmly. “If it makes you feel any better, the first words out of his mouth when I gave him his new characterization were ‘Does this mean I’m compatible with Bones?’”

Leonard’s smile broadens even as he groans. “The man has no sense of privacy, I swear to God.”

“Do you really mind?” Christine asks, giving him a knowing look.

Thinking of Jim strutting around the ship giving off the scent of a bonded omega, proudly claiming Bones as his mate, Leonard can’t suppress a pleased flush. “Maybe not,” he admits.

\--End--


End file.
